


Best Friends Since Childhood

by SinpaiCasanova (Bladerunnerblue)



Series: The adventures of Steve and Bucky: Professional porn stars [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Actor Bucky Barnes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Artist Steve Rogers, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Jokes, Barebacking, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Crack Treated Seriously, Forbidden Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by Art, James Barnes and the mystery of the magical prostate, M/M, Musical References, Pining, Porn Video, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Subspace, Tattoos, Top Steve Rogers, Tropes, Two Shot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21573112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bladerunnerblue/pseuds/SinpaiCasanova
Summary: Tony pulled out a drawer from his cluttered desk, reaching inside to grab a sheet of paper and hand it over to Steve. Sure enough, Steve had about a dozen lines he needed to remember, which wasn't an issue, really. He just hoped his co-star wouldn't be expecting some George Clooney type shit right out the gate."Who'll I be working with?" Steve asked, the rhythmic chanting of 'please say Bucky, please say Bucky' playing on a loop inside his head."You'll be with Barnes again for this one, which I'm sure you're completely devastated about," Tony answered. Balloons and party streamers are flying around the open air in Steve's mind, thanking the powers that be for this divine intervention on his behalf. "Since you two have such good chemistry with each other, I figured the whole 'sleeping with the best friend' scenario would fit nicely for your first real rodeo as a contracted actor."Steve just so happened to agree, which he expressed with a beaming smile that might have made Tony a tad bit uncomfortable. And so with a few swipes of a pen, a signature here, initial there, Steve became a valued asset to BarebackBrooklynBoys.com, and boy was he weirdly proud of that.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: The adventures of Steve and Bucky: Professional porn stars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548241
Comments: 114
Kudos: 461





	1. A porn star is born

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frostbitebakery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostbitebakery/gifts).



> Character design for Steve belongs to Frostbitebakery, who so graciously let me use her design of Steve in glasses and an undercut for this series. Thank you❤

It's been a few weeks since Steve took a swim in the pool of professional pornography and came out on the other side half-drowned in lust and drenched in filth. He was primarily just looking for an easy payday and a chance to stick his dick where it hadn't had the pleasure of being stuck before, with no real plans of doing it again anytime soon. But after Bucky Barnes was all but thrown into his lap, practically gift-wrapped with **_"Please fuck me as hard as you can, Steve,"_ ** written on his forehead, he found that he kinda, sorta, maybe took a liking to the whole, _fucking for a living_ thing he randomly stumbled into by chance.

He could concede that the idea of becoming an asset to Tony's production company and earning some supplementary income in between art commissions intrigued him. A little. 

...Okay, maybe a lot.

But it certainly had nothing to do with how unbelievably gorgeous his co-star was, or how pliant he became under Steve's hands the second he put some power behind his touch, or how sweet his voice sounded when Steve was fucking girlish moans out of his throat with a ferocity unlike anything Steve's ever exhibited with any other partner before. 

His interest in joining Tony's company had _nothing_ to do with Bucky at all, even though it has _everything_ to do with Bucky and Steve is just a lying liar who constantly lies to himself.

Especially when it comes to his love life, or lack thereof, as of late.

Steve's no Casanova and he knows it, but he also knows that it's been a long, long time since anyone's captured his interest quite like this, and he's understandably afraid of his sudden and most likely unrequited crush on one James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky was the perfect companion for this particular endeavor in the world of professional pornography, and Steve'll be the first to admit that he's damn glad Bucky was the one he'd popped his cherry for the second time with, even if it was recorded on camera and anyone with a pulse over a certain age bracket can see it if they knew where to look. But Tony said he wasn't supposed to care about the details, so he doesn't.

He had a great time with a great guy and that was that. He doesn't need to think about how Bucky still clung to him after the cameras stopped rolling, pressing feather-light kisses to his swollen lips just because he wanted to, searching Steve's eyes with an objective he couldn't quite place.

It was enough that Steve got to be with Bucky the way he had, shared an experience he couldn't repeat with anyone else in a truly earth-shattering way.

He didn't need more from Bucky–or to have him as anything other than one-time tryst to feel whole.

Or, at least, that's what Steve's been telling himself. Because truth be told, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about Bucky Barnes since that sunny afternoon three weeks ago.

He'd received a check from Tony the day they'd filmed the scene, and it wasn't anything extraordinary, but it was a hell of a lot more than he made on commissions, which made Steve a very happy boy.

He'd also managed to snag Bucky's number for _'business purposes only',_ in case they ever wanted to work together again, which wasn't a complete line of bullshit, but it wasn't the whole truth either.

But if Bucky had suspected that Steve was making excuses to keep in touch with him, he never said anything about it, just handed over his phone and had Steve punch in his number.

Two days later, Steve received a text with a link and a winky face and nothing more. Not a " _hey, how are you, Pal?"_ or any other interchangeable greeting to break the ice after what they'd done to each other in front of God and Tony Stark. Which was weird for Steve, but then again, they'd already surpassed the need for pleasantries when Steve has his prick stuffed in Bucky's ass after only knowing him for all of twenty minutes, hadn't they?

Probably. Steve isn't particularly good at the whole casual sex for cash thing yet, but if he's seriously considering joining Tony's company like he thinks he is, he's gonna have to get over that real quick.

It won't always be just him and Bucky doing scenes together, or, actually, he may not even get the chance to work with him again, if he thinks about it. Tony has a multitude of actors that work for him, so Steve could quite possibly never work with the same actor twice if he does this regularly. Which is something he doesn't want to dwell on too much, but it is a thought he has to consider going forward.

The link, unsurprisingly, took him straight to their debut video on **_BarebackBrooklynBoys.com_ ** , and he may have choked on his own spit seeing the thumbnail clip soundlessly playing above the cheesy, clickbaity as fuck title, but there was no one around to see it so it basically didn't even happen. Because that's how that works, you know? The whole _"if a tree falls in the woods and no one's around to hear it–"_ yadda yadda, it's all bullshit anyway.

But there it was in glorious 1080p: Steve dressed in nothing but his tattoos, pinning Bucky chest down on the mattress and fucking him dirty through the hole he'd torn in the back of his pants like some kind of Neanderthal. Bucky's gorgeous eyes are glazed over, kiss-swollen lips parted in a gasp, hands fisting the sheets underneath his bare chest.

He is honest to God the most ethereal, blindingly beautiful person Steve's ever had the pleasure of feasting his eyes on, and he almost can't believe his luck when he thinks back to how perfect their time together was.

Yes, it was all for show, to a certain degree. The scenario was set up weeks beforehand, but Tony liked his actors to get a little immersed in the scene while it was happening, sell the sex without actually selling the audience a damn thing or something like that. The whole point of Tony's brand of pornography is to give the viewer something they can fantasize about, insert themselves in, see how good sex can be when it's fun.

If his actors aren't enjoying themselves then the viewer is going to pick up on that and the effect is lost. So in a sense, Bucky was really into what they were doing, same as Steve. It's just that he also can't outright dismiss the fact that Bucky was acting as well, embellishing on the pleasure he was feeling, their connection, maybe even how much he wanted Steve in the first place.

It's kind of depressing to think about it, so Steve tried not to, tried to busy himself with his latest commission and get on with his life, just as Bucky had.

It worked for about two days, and then Tony Stark called.

"Steve-o!" Tony boomed, clearly excited about whatever he was calling about. Steve had nearly forgotten how much of yippy terrier Tony could be when he was passionate about something, and he was beginning to regret that he'd ever picked up the damn phone in the first place, but he made his bed and now he had to lie in it and suffer in silence. "Long time no talk. You doing good?–Man, it's been forever since we were last in touch, huh?"

"Tony, it's only been three weeks-"

"Good. Great. Fantastic. I'm glad to hear it." Tony interrupted, talking a mile a minute. Steve rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Listen, I have a business proposition for you, alright? Are you ready? 'Cause I'm about to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime!"

"I guess." Steve sighed, setting aside his pencil and leaning back in the office chair he was previously hunched over in. It's not like he's all that heartbroken for the distraction. Sketching hair and fabric is tedious as fuck and he can already feel a migraine setting in from the eye strain, especially since his glasses were perched atop his head and he'd overlooked the fact that he needed them to see details properly, like an idiot.

Oh, well.

"Always so enthusiastic, Rogers." Tony deadpanned. "Really. Contain yourself for God's sake, I can barely get a word in edgewise."

"Tony. Focus." 

"All right, all right, " Tony grumbled, "God you're grumpy. I can see why you two get along so well. He's a grumpy fucker too."

"Tony!" 

"AS I WAS SAYING," he bellowed, "before I was so _rudely_ interrupted. Business offer. You in or out?"

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, quickly reaching the end of his rope. However, the comment did strike up some curiosity. He hadn't actually come to any sort of decision on whether he would join or not, but it appeared as if Tony didn't want to wait for Steve to come around on his own.

"What kind of business offer?" 

"The business-ey kind."

Steve let out an unattractive snort. "Okay, now you're just fucking with me."

Tony hummed, considering. "And here I thought you were just another pretty blond. Color me surprised, Rogers."

"Yeah, well, there's a lot of things you don't know about me, Tony." Steve teased, visibly relaxing a little. "The inner workings of my mind are a mystery you'll never solve."

Tony laughed. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, cupcake. You're about as transparent as cellophane." He paused, mulling over his next words carefully. "At least when it comes to Bucky Bear, you are."

Steve was admittedly curious at first, intrigued by whatever offer Tony was rambling on about. But now, with just the utterance of a single name, Tony had his complete and undivided attention, and Stark–the crafty fucker–knew it too. 

_"Ah,"_ he hummed, and Steve could hear the smug smile in his tone. The bastard. "Thought that might get you to shut up. _Finally._ I was trying to offer you an acting position with my illustrious company since your video with Mr. Perfect Hair was a smashing hit with the clientele, but you wouldn't let me–"

"Wait, what?!" Steve squawked, "it is?! They liked it?"

Over the past few weeks, the idea that Steve and Bucky's first video would be an instant success never really crossed his mind. He hoped that the people would like it, perhaps ask for more content starring the two of them, but it wasn't really something he believed would happen this quickly. It seemed joining up was the smartest thing he could do in this case, and if it allowed him to see Bucky Barnes again, then he's all the better for it.

"Steve," Tony made it sound like Steve was being ridiculous, and maybe he was, but Steve didn't really see much appeal in himself. But it appeared he was wrong in that. "They fucking _loved_ it! I've had such an influx in new memberships that the goddamn site crashed for like an hour. I thought Pepper was going to pop an artery."

"Wait–who's Pepper?" Steve asked, choosing to ask the simpler question rather than try and digest what Tony was implying. It was a bit much, but Steve was excited to explore wherever this new path led him.

Hopefully closer to Bucky, he preferred.

"You know, the strawberry blonde in the office next to mine," Tony said as if that explained anything to Steve. "You've met her before. She's my assistant."

 _Oh,_ right. _Her._ And by her, Steve meant the gorgeous woman that actually ran the damn company while Tony did all the fun stuff like directing and scripting. Steve was also pretty sure that Pepper had Tony's nuts displayed in a glass case on her desk, to remind him who the boss really was both in and outside of the bedroom.

Sometimes you can just smell that type of dynamic on people, and it always smelled a bit like consensual humiliation and Astroglide. But whatever, to each their own.

"Anyway," Tony continued when Steve hadn't said anything else on the matter. "How about you come by the office tomorrow morning...oh, say around nine?– and we'll get you signed on. Sound good, Blondie?"

All right. Sure. Why not. It's not like Steve had any other pressing engagements to keep to or anything. He had the rest of the evening to finish up this commission of Captain Kirk and Spock spooning in zero-gravity, so meeting Tony at nine would be no problem for him. He told Tony this much, but left out the part about his sketch of little spoon Kirk and serving spoon Spock.

Although, he was sure Bucky'd get a kick out of it.

* * *

Despite how much Steve procrastinated last night, he did manage to complete the commission and, thankfully, the client was exquisitely pleased with it. Though, it did take him until nearly three in the morning to actually get it done. So there's that.

He'd rolled out of bed at a quarter past eight, rushed through a perfunctory shower that still left a bit of shampoo residue in his hair he now had to deal with, but he only had about fifteen minutes to reach the metro if he wanted to get there on time, and if Steve is anything his mother strived for him to be, it's punctual.

He raked a comb through his hair, threw on some clothes from the floor that he hoped were clean, and set out to the kitchen to grab a quick bite to eat before he left. And by quick bite, I mean scooping out a huge chunk of the pecan pie his ma made him last week and shoving it in his gob while he hauled ass out the door.

Steve is kinda, sorta the human embodiment of a dumpster fire, but he's trying, and that's all anyone could really expect from him at the moment.

He made it to Tony's office with a minute to spare, panting a little from his awkward speed-walk down the street. 

The office itself was just a warehouse Tony's converted into a studio of sorts. There's a small gym and a locker room with a few open-stall showers on the second floor, a vacant area used for building sets on the ground floor, and of course, a row of dressing rooms and such that the actors use for hair and makeup.

Tony's office is there among them, right next to the office Pepper apparently shares with someone named Maria Hill. 

He knocked once on the plain white wooden door and stepped through the threshold a moment later when Tony called him in.

The office, just like last time, is an artful mix of order and chaos–organized in such a way that only made sense to Tony. It's brightly lit in recessed lighting, there are stacks of papers literally everywhere and loud classic rock is playing from the opened laptop he's currently pecking at with his fingers.

"Sit, Blondie," Tony said, turning the music down to a dull roar. There's a baby blue gift bag sitting on his desk as well, stuffed full of junk Steve can't really see. 

He sits, quietly waiting for Tony to finish up with whatever he's working on; anxiously picking at a loose thread in the sleeve of his lavender sweater.

"So, this," Tony gestured to the gift bag, "is yours." 

Steve just gave him a puzzled look, and Tony rolled his eyes in that way he did when he thought you were being excessive.

"Go on, take it. Think of it as your sign-on bonus or whatever."

Steve does, hesitantly reaching out for the bag and setting it in his lap to see what's inside. 

He pulled each item out, laying them in his lap until the bag was empty. There was a box of G-spot condoms, a tube of that silicone lube he'd used on Bucky, a rubber cock ring, an at-home waxing kit that's supposed to smell like aloe and cucumber, a coupon for 10% off a style and a cut at some bougie salon he'd never heard of in Manhattan, a two-pack of Fleets enemas–which needs no explanation–and an index card with a username and password for his premium Spotify account.

Okay. What the serious fuck is this shit?

Steve placed each item back in the bag except for the index card, because _why_ would he need a premium account for a music streaming service if he's here to do porn?

He must have conveyed such thoughts to Tony because the man merely shrugged and said: "It's good to have a playlist to get you going before a shoot. You know, like workout music for sucking dick."

"Everyone has one here" Tony clarified, "There's Sam, the jazz man. Bucky likes to fuck to Hozier for some reason, and then you have metal-heads like Brock–but he's into more of the S&M shit, emphasis on S, so watch out–and those that like that screamo stuff that gives me a migraine–that's Barton. You'll meet them all eventually, probably have a few scenes with them, so find your own groove and boogie down, as the kids say."

Steve blinked, nonplussed. "Right...Thanks." 

"So, I'm putting you on for next week's shoot," Tony explained, "There's a script, but it's small and easy to remember, so you should be okay to perform some of the more scripted scenes we do."

Tony pulled out a drawer from his cluttered desk, reaching inside to grab a sheet of paper and hand it over to Steve. Sure enough, Steve had about a dozen lines he needed to remember, which wasn't an issue, really. He just hoped his co-star wouldn't be expecting some George Clooney type shit right out the gate.

"Who'll I be working with?" Steve asked, the rhythmic chanting of ' _please say Bucky, please say Bucky'_ playing on a loop inside his head.

"You'll be with Barnes again for this one, which I'm sure you're completely devastated about," Tony answered. Balloons and party streamers are flying around the open air in Steve's mind, thanking the powers that be for this divine intervention on his behalf. "Since you two have such good chemistry with each other, I figured the whole _'sleeping with the best friend'_ scenario would fit nicely for your first real rodeo as a contracted actor."

Steve just so happened to agree, which he expressed with a beaming smile that might have made Tony a tad bit uncomfortable. And so with a few swipes of a pen, a signature here, initial there, Steve became a valued asset to BarebackBrooklynBoys.com, and boy was he weirdly proud of that.

Unfortunately, he didn't see Bucky while he was there at the studio, and Tony assured him that rehearsals for scenes were for pussies, so about a week after he'd sold his soul to Tony Stark, Steve was preparing for his shoot with Bucky in some plain Jane house Tony rented for the occasion, and besides the production crew and Tony Stark himself hanging around outside somewhere, Steve had the whole house to himself.

Bucky hadn't shown up yet, so Tony told him to make use of the bathroom and scrub himself down so he wouldn't smell like an unwashed dick or anything equally repulsive that would make Bucky gag in the not so fun kinda way.

Steve started up the shower, adjusting the temperature while he set up his phone to blast what he called his _'wink wank'_ playlist.

So far it was just a bunch of Chase Atlantic, Blackbear, and The Weeknd, because apparently, Steve's dick responded to those sick beats better than anything else. 

He was alone in the bathroom, shampoo foaming in his hair and suds sliding down his wet skin, singing a little off-key to the music, bopping his head and dancing like an idiot in the tub. 

He was feeling himself and getting excited about what was soon to come, so he felt it was only natural to sing his heart out to a song about getting high off green shit, and only screamed a little when he heard someone–namely Bucky Barnes, ethereal angel–answer back.

_"–Let the meds talk then I knock their head's off. I done popped too many pills, made my dick soft–"_

"I hear they make a cream for that now." Bucky snickered. 

The yelp that tore out of Steve's throat was most definitely of the manly man variety and he absolutely did not almost fall over on his ass from the pure panic of having his private concert interrupted by the very man he jerks-off too on a nightly basis.

The song continued to play in the background as Bucky cackled like a cartoon witch, and Steve poked his head out from behind the plastic shower curtain to glare daggers at him, hoping somewhere in the back of his mind that Bucky would get his just like that one dude in _Scanners_ did. And _no_ , he is _not_ being _overdramatic_ about this _._ He could have _died,_ okay?

"Sorry, man," Bucky grinned, setting a travel bag full of beauty products down on the sink next to Steve's. He's beautiful, even when he's being an insufferable asshole. Especially when he's being an insufferable asshole. "I was really enjoying your performance there. Please, by all means, continue."

"Fuck off, Barnes. I didn't hear you come in." Steve hissed, but there was no heat behind the curse, just abject humiliation. Bucky put his hands up in surrender, still smiling that gorgeous smile at Steve. 

"I'm just teasin', Stevie. It only made my ears bleed a little."

Steve raised an eyebrow at the nickname, choosing to ignore the barb Bucky offered in lieu of an actual apology. 

"Stevie?"

"Yeah, didn't you hear? You and I are old pals now, and friends give each other dorky pet names and stuff."

Steve pursed his lips. "You're a method actor, aren't you?"

Bucky snorted.

"Sure, if you say so, Stevie." He said, tying up his long hair into a loose bun on the top of his head before tugging off his clothes and stepping up the shower curtain with an expectant look and not a hint of shame gleaming in his blue-grey eyes.

Steve didn't know what he should say back to that, so he said nothing at all and just stared off into the void liked he'd forgotten what spoken language was.

"You gonna move over?" Bucky inquired, "kinda on a tight schedule here, and I still have to prep for our scene."

"Uh, yeah, sure. Make yourself at home."

"Well, if you insist." Bucky giggled. 

Hot embarrassment flashed high on Steve's cheeks as he moved aside and Bucky stepped into the shower behind him. Why did he say that? He's not normally this stupid.

He decided to just focus on rinsing the soap out of his hair and not the fact that Bucky Barnes was standing behind him all wet and naked while The Weeknd sang _The Zone_ in that sensual voice of his, because thinking about how perfect the mood was and how easily he could turn around and wrap his arms around Bucky's waist would make his already plump dick fatten up even more, and that's not exactly appropriate at the moment.

Later, it's expected. But right now while Bucky's trying to shower? It's just rude.

Steve finished up fairly quickly but before he could step out and towel off, Bucky's hand shot out and snatched him by his wrist, tugging him back.

"Woah, where's the fire at, honey?" Bucky playfully chided, "stay a minute, will you?"

"Why?" Was Steve's brilliant response to that, which he wanted to punch himself in the face for. But Bucky didn't appear to be put off by it at all. He just smiled sweetly, reached across the shelves to grab something in a teal-colored plastic tube, and placed it in Steve's palm.

"I can do it myself just fine, but you'll have a better angle." He explained, and if Steve didn't know any better, it almost sounded as if Bucky was timid about asking him. "Plus my left shoulder gets a little stiff if I strain it too much, so...yeah."

It took a second too long for him to put the pieces of the puzzle together, which was embarrassing but whatever, there was nothing for it.

Lube+fingers+asshole=foreplay.

Good job, Steve. You get a gold star.

"Oh." Steve murmured to himself as the answer dawned on him. " _Oh._ Right, yeah."

Bucky cocked his head a little. "You okay with that?"

Steve nodded, unable to trust that his voice wouldn't crack and squeak like a teenage boy's. It's actually ridiculous for him to be so nervous about helping Bucky prep, especially since he's already had his fingers knuckle-deep in Bucky's perfect ass once before. It's just that this feels different than it did when they were fucking on camera. There was a purpose to it then, a goal to achieve.

In Steve's mind, Bucky only let him because that was what the scene called for at the time. Bucky didn't need prep because he'd done it before the shoot started, but it was ingrained in Steve's lizard brain that you had to finger someone's ass before you stuck a dick in it. Of course, not everyone is built like that or even requires prep to have anal sex, but Bucky himself compared it to, funny enough, stretching before a run, so he always did at least two fingers before trying anything else. 

It helped that he'd already cleaned himself out before he arrived on set, because that's also an important part of anal sex that people don't really talk about. In Bucky's opinion, there's nothing worse than getting immersed in the heat of the moment and then realizing your partner's ass isn't clean when you're already balls deep in it.

Bucky's very particular about his personal hygiene, which is something Tony said stemmed from a rough childhood Bucky didn't like to talk about. Point is, he doesn't partake in spontaneous sex and will only consider it if it's on his terms.

Bucky eyed him suspiciously for a second or two, perhaps trying to find the lie in his acquiescence, but he found none. 

His long fingers found their way into Steve's thick beard, nails lightly scratching through the coarse hair along his jaw as his hands moved down to settle at the base of Steve's neck. 

Bucky leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of Steve's mouth, murmuring a "thank you, honey," before he turned around and braced both of his hands on the shower wall, arching his back and popping his right hip out to give Steve better access to him.

Steve didn't respond, wouldn't know what to say if he did. Instead, he angled the showerhead so that the spray would only hit Steve's lower back and leave Bucky mostly untouched, then he spread the cold gel over the fingertips of his right hand and used the other to spread Bucky's cheeks apart as best he could.

Bucky flinched at the little shock of cold against his hole but relaxed into it a second later when Steve's fingertips began to slowly circle. 

Steve's done this to himself enough to know how to do it properly with the least amount of discomfort possible. First, just the tip of his pointer finger to get Bucky used to the intrusion, then slowly up to the third knuckle.

Bucky hissed quietly, his body swallowing up Steve's finger greedily, demanding more with a flutter and a squeeze, and Steve acquiesced, sliding in a second alongside the first.

 _"God, Steve,"_ he said, breathless, and Steve's fingers crooked in response, morphing Bucky's next word into a startled yelp. _"Go-aah!"_

"Yeah?" Steve murmured, gently rubbing Bucky's prostate in dizzying circles. "That good, Buck?"

"Y-yeah, _so good_ , honey," came his whimpered answer, grinding his ass back on Steve's fingers just to try and get them a little deeper. "Just don't get me off, okay? Save that for later."

"Sure," Steve stepped forward, pressing his chest to Bucky's arched back. "Whatever you want, Buck."

The music changed tracks once again to Chase Atlantic's _Tidal Wave_ , and hearing Mitchel Cave sing about how wet he can make you while Steve was fingering Bucky in the shower wasn't exactly helping his dick behave itself here, but it wasn't like Bucky was unaffected by it either.

Both of them were panting out curses, cocks leaking and hard enough to fucking pound nails, and if they weren't careful, they'd end up fucking each other in the shower right there and then and completely ruin the shoot, which Tony would certainly murder them for.

Steve didn't really care about that if he was honest with himself. He had Bucky pinned to the shower wall, sopping wet and trembling like he'd shake apart if Steve wasn't there to hold him together, and it was sexy as hell that Bucky could come from just this; Steve fucking his ass with two fingers, rubbing at his prostate and tugging at his rim until Bucky's eyes rolled back into his head.

 _Fuck,_ this man is going to be the death of him.

"Tell me when you're close, sweetheart." Steve murmured, surprised to hear the endearment slip from his mouth so easily. But Bucky didn't actually get the chance to answer him before the bathroom door swung open again and Tony _fucking_ Stark stepped in to intervene.

"Okay, break it up, love birds!" He berated, actually going so far as to pull the damn shower curtain back to glare at them for holding up his shoot. "You've been in here for like an hour! Tick-tock, boys. We've got filth to film and not a lot of time to do it!"

Steve's jaw clenched right along with the fist that was wrapped around Bucky's hip; probably leaving behind little crescent-shaped indents where his nails dug into Bucky's skin. But despite his obvious reluctance, he pulled away from Bucky and stepped out of the shower to towel off. 

"You know, Blondie, the whole purpose of shooting a skin flick is that when you two get down and dirty, it's _ON FUCKING CAMERA_ , not in the damn bathtub of a house I'm borrowing–where there are no cameras. You get me? And that's another thing. This–" he gestured between Steve and Bucky, "can't happen. Ever. Friendship is great and I encourage it, but my actors do not date each other. The last thing I need is some unwanted drama between–"

"Tony, he was just helping me prep." Bucky sighed, looking put upon. "You know how much my shoulder aches when I do it myself. Steve was just lending me a helping hand, weren't you, pal?"

"Yeah," Steve mumbled, lying through his teeth, "Nothing more. I promise."

Tony regarded them for a minute longer, narrowing his eyes just as he did the first time he'd caught them sharing a forbidden moment, then shrugged and said "better not be anything more," and moved to exit the bathroom.

"Chop chop, boys!" He shouted from the hallway, "I want you dressed and in that bedroom in five minutes, ready to shoot in ten."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and breathing slowly to quell the boiling hot rage simmering in his veins. Murder–even if he's temporarily insane while he does it–is still a capital crime. And even if it'd feel exceedingly good to punch Tony's head clean off his shoulders, he had to remember that his ma would literally kill him if he did something so stupid without having her as an alibi to exonerate him.

Bucky shrugged, giving Steve an apologetic smile as he stepped onto the bath mat beside him.

There was nothing really for either of them to say, so neither said anything.


	2. The thirst is real, folks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, part two, where the magic happens.😉

"Everybody ready?" Tony asked from where he was seated on a rickety old stool in the corner of the white-washed bedroom they were currently borrowing. Steve was sitting on the edge of a queen-size bed, dressed comfortably in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt; Bucky standing in similar garb directly in front of him. There was a small bowl half-filled with warm water in his right hand and a damp washcloth clutched loosely in his left, hair still tied up in that cute little bun sitting atop his head.

The production crew gave Tony their murmured chorus of agreement, as did Bucky and Steve.

"Great. Now, remember, you've been best friends since you were both pissin' in diapers. The thirst is real, folks. I want passion. I want desire. I want–whatever the hell that was in the shower back there, okay? You long for this–you've wanted each other since you knew what a dick was, alright. Think you two can manage that?"

"Shouldn't be a problem, Boss." Bucky grinned, peering down at Steve with an unsaid question burning brightly in his eyes. Steve just smiled back, a little nervous but hopeful. 

"We're ready to go when you are, Tony."

"I'm sure you are, Blondie. I can smell the spunk in the air already, you know, since you two have been relentlessly eye-fucking each other since I caught you humping in the shower." Tony said with a knowing smirk, but before either of them could dispute what Tony was implying, he snapped the clapboard and shouted, _"action!"_ And the cameras began to film.

Whatever he was about to say back to that died instantaneously on his tongue at the sound of those words, and just like last time, Bucky's bubbly personality rapidly mellowed out into the subdued focus of a cat who was determined to get the canary. It was almost as if Steve were looking at a completely different person, which was both intriguing and disconcerting, if Steve were honest with himself.

Actor Bucky was a completely different entity than the Bucky who'd heckled him about his hideous singing voice in the bathroom just a few short moments ago, and Steve wondered what other peculiarities this gorgeous man had that he didn't yet know about, or even if he'd get the chance to know him as well as Tony Stark did.

But he shouldn't be thinking about that right now. Regardless of how he's feeling, they still have a job to do, and Steve needed to focus or he'd end up losing this job to his own hopeless heart.

Once in character, Bucky lifted up the wet washcloth and began to gently dab it along Steve's hairline, cleaning around the skin where he was supposed to be injured.

"What the hell were you thinkin', Stevie?" Bucky sharply scolded, a frown of concentration and perhaps even a little irritation evident on his handsome face. Steve played along seamlessly despite his concerns about his acting abilities, wincing a time or two when Bucky moved the cloth to pat at his temple, but otherwise he gave Bucky no acknowledgment whatsoever. He was supposed to be stuck inside his head with how irate he was, which really isn't any different from how he actually gets when he's _this_ pissed off. 

So far, this part of the script was easy. Even if Tony's version of the whole _'seduced by the best friend'_ trope was a little bit different than he's used to seeing, Steve's got this.

"Three against one? Are you nuts?!"

"Couldn't back down, Buck. Not after what they said."

Bucky scoffed. "So they called you a few names, Steve. That's hardly a reason to go and get your head knocked off!"

Steve's head snapped up at that, fiery blue eyes fixed on ones that couldn't decide whether they were going to be grey or blue, which was interesting, seeing how Bucky's eyes changed with his moods like that

"You don't get it, Bucky!" Steve snapped, standing to his feet in an attempt to get Bucky to back the hell up, even though it's the last thing he actually wanted. "You'll never understand the kind of shit I have to go through."

Bucky doesn't back down though. If anything, he gets right in Steve's face about it. Steve doubted it'd be any different if this situation were real. Bucky just looked like the type that would chew your ass out while he was also trying to lovingly fix your hurts, and Steve desperately wanted to know if that were actually true or if it was just something he'd made up inside his head to counter the lack of information he has on Bucky.

"Oh, yeah?" Bucky growled, the bowl and rag he'd had in his hand now thoughtlessly discarded on the nightstand. "You think we're so different?"

He's yelling now, shoving Steve hard in the chest with his soft hands, and it's only amping Steve up even more than he already is. But not in the way the scene calls for him to be. 

Seeing Bucky like this is new and exciting and Steve's dick is obviously interested in the idea of Bucky using him as a doormat for a while, but it was getting harder for him to school his expression into one of disdain when all he wanted to do was rip Bucky's clothes from his body and ravish him until he passed out from too many consecutive orgasms.

Quite simply, Steve isn't angry that Bucky is bawling him out. He's fucking horny.

" _Christ,_ Steve. We've been best friends since you and I were in diapers, and you have the gall to stand there and say that I don't fucking know who you are or where you've been?!"

He's quiet for a second, searching Steve's eyes for an answer he won't give because he suddenly can't recall what Tony told him to say in the first place.

He can't tell if Bucky's waiting for him to respond or if he's just drawing out the moment for suspense because Steve's forgotten the rest of his lines and Bucky is far too distracting to work with when he's looking at him like that and it's all going to Hell in a fucking handbasket and Tony's going to be so upset—

But then Bucky sighed, all visible traces of anger suddenly draining from his face as he took his hands and tenderly cupped Steve's cheeks with them.

Is he improvising? Steve doesn't remember reading this part in the script, but then again, he can't remember _anything_ from the script at the present moment. Bucky's just too beautiful and Steve's brain can't focus on anything else when he's standing this close to Steve and holding him so sweetly.

But it was honestly amazing to watch Bucky work, throwing himself into those few lines he had before everything devolved into animal grunting and high-pitched whining. Hell, even Steve thought for a second that Bucky was being serious–that he really was Steve's friend and that he cared deeply for him. 

It took him a second to remember what this really was, and he visibly deflated like a popped balloon when reality came in to burst his bubble. 

He was almost surprised to hear himself speak so sullenly, hoping that whatever came out of his mouth was still somewhat in line with Tony's vision of two friends passionately fucking each other.

"I can get by on my own, Buck. You don't need to stick around for my sake."

To his immense relief, Bucky didn't even miss a beat.

"Thing is, you don't have to. I've been here this whole time, Stevie." He said, voice so soft it's almost a whisper. "I know you, and I know what you've been through these past few years. You're not alone."

Bucky pressed their foreheads together, the tips of their noses brushing in what Steve assumed might be a kunik. Or perhaps that was just an accidental nose rubbing. Whatever it was, it felt nice. Really nice.

And then Bucky smiled, and Steve's entire world shook with how genuine it was.

"I'm with you till the end of the line, pal."

Of course, It's fake, he knows, but his heart still swelled at the sound of those words. The devotion barely contained within them is overwhelming, and Steve wished, even for a moment, that this was real. That Bucky wanted Steve just as badly as Steve did him.

He didn't have to act when he leaned forward to softly kiss Bucky's lips, to let his eyes close and his heart pour out everything he ever wanted to say to this man in a slow song only they knew the words to. Steve would let his body talk for him, even if he knew that Bucky wouldn't hear what he was really trying to say.

Steve pulled back slowly, eyes peering into Bucky's which were wide with shocked like he couldn't believe what had just happened. But he wasn't acting like he was disgusted or frightened by what Steve did, merely taken aback. 

Frankly, Bucky's acting is pretty damn impressive for what they're actually filming. He wondered if Bucky took classes for this, or if he's just naturally this talented.

This man truly amazes him more and more every day. 

"Was that okay?" Steve quietly asked, feigning uncertainty like didn't know exactly how Bucky would react, and sure enough, Bucky's answer came in the form of clashing teeth and lips as he pressed their mouths together again, kissing Steve hungrily with everything he had to give.

Steve cupped the back of Bucky's neck, sliding his fingers up into his hair until he reached the bun at the top of his head; gently pulling it loose to let his silky locks fall to his shoulders.

They kissed like they would if they really were two friends who’d finally decided to act upon their feelings for each other, desperate and hungry for anything the other would be willing to give, but they also had a time limit for the entire scene that both were very well aware of, because Tony Stark was in the corner of the bedroom tapping on his wristwatch, silently telling them to move along to the stuff the audience actually wanted to see.

They couldn’t spend their allotted half-hour kissing and touching like they had all the time in the world, even though that’s all Steve wanted to do; sex be damned. It was nice to just hold Bucky in his arms, taste his mouth as Bucky’s tongue danced with his own, but Tony would never allow that. They had a scene to film and not a lot of time to do it, so it came as no surprise to Steve when Bucky pulled back from the kiss and placed his palm in the center of Steve’s broad chest; pushing him to sit back down on the bed so Bucky could crawl into his lap and straddle him like he’d done the last time they were together.

Only this time, Bucky was in control of where this was going and how quickly they’d get there.

He stripped off his faded blue t-shirt and let it fall to the floor carelessly, and Steve needed no further prompting to take his hands and smooth them down the expanse of Bucky’s chest, lightly tracing the outline of the Kraken tattoo he admired so much with his fingertips.

Bucky shivered, allowing Steve to look his fill as if he were doing it for the first time, and Steve did, greedily soaking up every detail of Bucky’s smooth torso, from his hairless chest to his chiseled Adonis belt peeking out from under the hem of his dark-wash jeans. 

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, Sweetheart. Prettiest thing I’d ever seen.” Slipped from his mouth unbidden, and Bucky froze like he didn’t expect to hear such a sentimental thing in the middle of a sex scene. But the blush that colored his cheeks was all too telling when he’d pulled back to let Steve see his face and Steve felt something like hope bloom brightly in his chest when Bucky dipped his head back down to lick into his waiting mouth.

Their hips moved in a slow and sensual grind while Bucky pulled off Steve’s shirt and ducked down to kiss the hollow of his throat. He gradually moved his lips down to Steve’s collarbone, kissing and gently sucking at the skin of his neck and chest until Steve was reduced to a panting, sweaty mess and Bucky’s hair was a tangled rat’s nest from how often Steve had been fisting and tugging on it.

His cock was hard and throbbing in his jeans, digging into Bucky’s hip as they continued to move against each other, and Bucky was faring no better than Steve at this point, leaking a wet patch onto the denim of his pants with how turned on he was.

He pushed Steve down onto his back, still sitting atop him with his hands resting on Steve’s inked chest while Steve’s palms roamed the soft skin of Bucky’s arms and shoulders.

The kissing resumed as Steve hoped it would, but now Bucky was hovering above him, pinning him to the mattress and biting at his lips like he wanted to devour Steve whole. And Steve, God help him, wanted Bucky to take a bite out of him that was big enough to chew.

And although he’s not sure how it happened or who really started it, they’d ended up stripping each other naked fairly soon after that, impatiently tearing at each other's clothing like they couldn't stand to see an inch of skin that wasn't uncovered. 

Steve rolled Bucky over onto his back, folding his knees up to his chest and nearly bending him in half with his bare ass sticking up in the air. Steve was kneeling in front of him with his thighs braced against Bucky’s back to help him keep his balance, hands gripping tightly behind Bucky’s knees to hold him open.

Once the opportunity presented itself, Steve couldn’t help but swipe his tongue over Bucky’s asshole, swirling it around the furled muscle in between teasing dips and slow, wet licks. Bucky wasn’t even in a position to do much of anything about it either, barely able to move from how Steve had his limbs folded up like a pretzel, and all he could really do at this point was whimper and moan, trying and failing to grind his ass back on Steve’s face like he’d die if he didn’t get Steve inside of him _right fucking now._ But he did manage to grab Steve by the hair, guiding Steve's mouth up to tongue at his balls, then suck on the head of Bucky’s cock. 

Steve's never sucked a dick before, but he must have been doing alright because Bucky could hardly speak when his cock was swallowed up in the blissfully wet heat of Steve's mouth. But then again Bucky had forgotten all semblance of spoken language the last time they were together too, so maybe that's just how he is during sex. 

Steve toyed with Bucky for a little while longer, alternating between tongue-fucking his ass and sucking on his cock, and Bucky felt as though he’d literally float up into the atmosphere and burst like a stray balloon if Steve kept this sweet torment up any longer.

The cameras zoomed in on Bucky’s face, his expression pinched as if Steve were causing him pain rather than drowning him in pleasure, but the sweet sounds that were spilling from his parted lips were all too telling, and Steve was strangely proud that he was the one responsible for how needy Bucky was becoming.

But just as it was before, once they’d gotten started, all sophisticated dialog between them fell by the wayside, forgotten right along with the production crew’s presence and the ever-present weight of Tony Stark’s eyes on them.

It was just the two of them again, on this bed, consuming one another in a fit of fiery passion that would burn them down to ash before they were even done with each other. It was Bucky and Steve sharing this moment together—and a few thousand horny strangers who’d paid for the privilege of seeing them fuck. 

Details like that, however, were irrelevant.

All Steve could focus on was Bucky, and it became easier, then, for Steve to tune everything else out and dial into the lust currently coursing through his veins like a drug.

He gave Bucky’s hole one final lick and a light kiss for good measure, gently letting him down onto the bed before rolling him onto his belly. Bucky went willingly, completely boneless where he laid on the mattress; panting, skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat Steve wanted to lick from his body like it was the sweetest ambrosia he’d ever had the pleasure of tasting.

There was a little pump-bottle of lubricant stashed under the pillows that Steve quickly retrieved with a self-satisfied grin. He then nudged Bucky’s right leg up a bit higher, bending it at the knee so that he could access him easier, and Bucky let him move his limbs into whatever position Steve wanted them to be in. He was like a doll with his strings cut, only able to move if Steve wanted him to and commanded his body to comply to his every whim like a good little toy should.

This, right here, was the part that Steve couldn’t get enough of; seeing how pliant Bucky became under him, how willing and ready he was to submit himself before Steve like Bucky trusted him to take care of his every need. Like Steve was all he’d ever wanted in this world and he couldn’t care less if he came or not.

Pleasure is subjective to each person, and Steve was sure that Bucky could get off on a multitude of things, but he could tell that this: letting Steve use his body in any way he desired, was what Bucky craved most during each encounter they had with each other. He liked the submissive role, fell into it easier than breathing, and Steve felt a strong surge of power and responsibility over him in a way that was similar to a punch to his chest.

Bucky trusted him–a complete stranger–to intuit his needs and tend to them accordingly, and Steve, awestruck by this as he was, wouldn’t let him down.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you, Sweetheart,” Steve rumbled in Bucky’s ear, nipping at the shell and sucking on the lobe just to see him shudder, “gonna make you feel so good.”

 _“Please,”_ was all Bucky could say in return, arching his back and tilting his hips up enticingly, wiggling his ass so Steve could see his cheeks jiggle.

Steve groaned, unable to resist. He grabbed twin handfuls of Bucky’s cheeks, pulling them apart from each other to reveal his puckered hole, squeezing, smacking, even biting at the plump flesh in his hands like he couldn’t get enough.

Bucky licked his lips, belatedly noticing the cameraman coming in closer to get a better view of what Steve was doing to him. They paid him no mind, almost as if he weren’t even there in the first place, and when Steve grabbed his cock by the base and gave Bucky’s asshole a few wet taps with the head of it, Bucky pushed back and moaned Steve’s name as if no one else could hear him say it but Steve.

“M’here, babydoll,” Steve murmured, “not going anywhere.”

The head of Steve cock pressed against Bucky’s entrance, any resistance Steve met giving way with a _‘pop’_ when Bucky beared down and swallowed Steve’s prick right down to the root in one smooth slide. They groaned together at the feeling of their bodies joining once more, and Steve could see Bucky bracing himself for a fast and punishing pace that might knock him straight out of his body and into the ether, but Steve surprised him when his hips pulled back and pushed in slowly, starting up a sensual pace that kept tempo with the song playing inside of his head.

Call him what you’d like, but Tony had the right idea in mind when he said that music can make a big difference in how well you perform in bed. Chase Atlantic’s _Paradise_ was just slow enough to keep Bucky grounded to the earth, but quick enough to get him writhing on Steve’s dick like he really was trying to fuck Bucky’s soul out of his body.

Plus the lyrics were fucking _spot on_ for what they were both feeling at the moment.

 _“It feels like heaven on the inside,”_ yes, Mitchel Cave, it certainly does.

Steve laid his chest along Bucky’s back, not putting much weight down on him, but enough to give him the feeling of helplessness he so clearly craved. Bucky let out a stuttered breath at that, then went totally limp as Steve circled his hips and moved to the beat only he could hear.

They stayed like that for a few moments before Steve pulled out and moved from the bed. Bucky came alive like he’d been doused in cold water, whipping his head around frantically to see where Steve had gone and why he’d left the warmth of his body in the first place.

Steve hushed his wounded whimper, coming around to the side of the bed to grab Bucky by his hips and turn him onto his back; sliding him down to the edge where Steve wanted him.

Bucky folded up his legs obediently, hearts in his eyes as he looked up at Steve and lazily stroked his cock. And it was truly a wonderful sight, to witness Bucky like this and know that he was the one that made it so.

The cameraman moved to kneel beside Steve’s legs, angling the camera up to see the precise moment when Steve fed his dick back into Bucky and began to fuck him in earnest. The pace was still somewhat slow and steady, but this time he could see Bucky’s face when his cock brushed against that sweet spot inside of him, and the way Bucky crunched up and shivered, sobbing breathlessly as Steve zeroed in on that spot and relentlessly chased after Bucky’s orgasm for him was so erotic even Tony Stark had to slap his hand across his mouth to keep himself from whimpering aloud.

 _“St-st-steeeeve!”_ Bucky cried, actual tears wetting his long eyelashes as Steve picked up the pace and lifted him from the bed, slamming his back against the wall to fuck him like an animal. _“A-h-ah-ah!–f-fuck!”_

There was no stopping him once he’d gotten a taste of this, pleasure pooling low in his gut as Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders and held on for dear life, burying his wet face in Steve’s neck as he practically sang out curses and stammered attempts at words no one could really decipher but him.

“Gettin’ close, baby. Wanna fill your ass up and watch you leak my come down your thighs.” Steve growled, half-surprised by the filth that spewed out of his mouth. Bucky appeared to like it though, because he kept repeating: _“do it, do it, fucking do it!"_ into the crook of Steve’s neck.

And he did.

Steve gave a dozen more rapid-fire thrusts that had Bucky screaming out as he came untouched, then followed him over the edge less than a minute later, spurting his hot come directly inside of Bucky like they’d had no concept of what a condom was. Not that it mattered, since Bucky was clean and so was Steve. Neither had been with anyone else since their last shoot, so there was no reason for anyone to freak out.

Steve held Bucky against the wall for a moment or two longer, lazily kissing at his neck, his dimpled chin, then finally, his lips. Bucky let him, kissing back as best he could with how boneless he was in Steve’s arms, and they didn’t stop when Tony yelled _“cut and print!”_ from his stool in the corner of the room.

This time, Tony didn’t make a move to approach them, just watched idly as Steve moved them back to the bed and laid Bucky down, pulling out slowly as if Bucky would break if he moved at anything faster than a snail’s pace.

“You okay, Sweetheart? Did I hurt you?” Steve asked, tenderly wiping the tears from Bucky’s cheeks.

Bucky wetly laughed, shaking his head with a goofy grin stretching his pretty lips.

“Never cried during sex before,” he slurred slowly, like he couldn’t understand the words. “Why’d that happen?”

“I donno, Buck. Never happened to me before either.”

“Felt good, Stevie. So fucking good.”

“I’m glad. Had me worried I’d done something you didn’t want.” Steve said, cupping the side of Bucky’s face. The urge to kiss him was overwhelming, but Steve knew the difference between a scene and real life, and Bucky hadn’t given him permission to kiss him outside of their scripted encounters, so Steve just gave him a watery grin and pulled his hand back, watching as Bucky chased after it longingly.

“No, come back–” Bucky whined, but Steve had already moved away from the bed when Tony came up to give Bucky what looked like a block of dark chocolate and a bottle of water.

“Eat, Kiddo,” He instructed, smiling softly. “Pretty sure Blondie here did a real number on your head.”

“But I-” Bucky pouted, eyes shifting between Tony and Steve. “I want–I n-need–uhm...I–”

Tony followed where Bucky’s eyes strayed, ignoring the chocolate and water in his hands for Mr. Tall, Blonde, and Gorgeous with the glasses and the messed up undercut, then sighed as if he knew exactly what Bucky was asking for and why he needed it.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll give you guys the room for a while.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at Steve, but he didn’t do anything tasteless like threaten him when Bucky was floating up in the atmosphere, quickly falling back down to earth like an asteroid. All he said was “take care of him for me, Blondie. He drops, that’s on you.”

Steve nodded, watching Tony leave the room along with the rest of the production crew, and then suddenly, they were alone again.

Steve scooped Bucky up into his arms, moving him to the center of the bed where the sheets were already pulled back from the mattress. He laid Bucky down, reaching for the washcloth on the nightstand and giving himself and Bucky a cursory wipedown. Bucky was coming around a little more, taking a few slow sips of cold water and nibbling on the chocolate like Tony’d asked him to.

He was quiet as he did so too, just looking up at Steve as he crawled into the bed beside him and pulled him close to his chest.

Steve’s heart was racing a mile a minute, nervous that he’d end up hurting Bucky in some way, but Bucky appeared to be perfectly content with his chocolate and his Stevie, munching on the block and sipping on his water until they were gone.

“You can relax now, Steve,” Bucky mumbled, nuzzling his cheek into Steve’s pec. “I’m not going to detonate or anything, I promise.”

“I know. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Bucky giggled softly. “I’m okay, Honey. Needed a minute to come back down, is all.”

He paused, considering, then he said softly; “thank you for staying with me,”

The answer was automatic, spilling forth like floorwaters through a busted dam.

“I’d do anything you wanted me to, Sweetheart.”

Bucky balked at that though, shifting to sit up against the headboard so he could look at Steve. 

"Anything? You hardly know me, Steve.”

“We could fix that, you know,” Steve shrugged, bullshitting his way through an excuse to get closer to the man he was quickly becoming attached to. “Maybe grab some coffee or something, get to know each other and stuff.”

“I don’t date my co-stars, Steve,” Bucky murmured, and Steve might have been projecting, but he thought it sounded a little reluctant, like Bucky didn’t even want to say this to Steve at all. “You heard what Tony said-”

“We’re not breaking any rules if it’s not a date,” rushed out of Steve’s mouth, and Bucky snorted. “We can be friends. I mean, if you wanted that sort of thing. I really like you, Bucky.”

Bucky smiled sweetly at him, and to Steve’s utter shock, he then leaned down to press a kiss to Steve's lips. It was soft and sweet, perhaps even a little nervous and scared, but Steve was able to read between the lines here, listening intently to what Bucky was actually saying. Or, at least, what Steve hoped he was saying.

“I’d like that, Stevie. I really would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are my lifeblood, so please let me know what you thought.
> 
> Also, if you'd like to see a specific cheesy trope (like the horny yoga instructor or "fucking the maid") explored in this ongoing series, let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> Drop me a comment, pretty please.❤
> 
> The song Steve is badly singing is GreenGreenGreen by Chase Atlantic


End file.
